


Rangers apprentice discord server birthday exchange cause I'm bad at titles

by awildpanicattackappeared



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Angst, Gen, f's in the chat for will, no beta we die like men, so much angst babyyyyy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awildpanicattackappeared/pseuds/awildpanicattackappeared
Summary: Tessa asked for Will dealing with the aftermath of Skandia, so I gave them Will dealing with the aftermath of Skandia
Relationships: Halt O'Carrick & Will Treaty
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	Rangers apprentice discord server birthday exchange cause I'm bad at titles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teaspoonbooks27](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaspoonbooks27/gifts).



Will hates the cold. Hates how it seeps into his bones, weighing him down like he was made of lead. Hates the chill and numbness that comes with it. But what he hates more than anything is the memories. They always come crashing back when he steps outside and the cold bites at him. 

He sits on the edge of the porch, his cloak forgotten inside. His back aches and his hands are numb and if he can _ just paddle faster, maybe it'll warm him up.  _ Will's hand grips the porch harder at his side, he doesn't feel the splinters. 

It takes him longer than he cares to admit for him to realize he's crying. He curls in on himself and lets it happen. The scars he bares from his time in the slave yard feel fresh now. Time reverses, scar tissue fades, and the cuts are new and dripping blood into the snow. Soaking through his shirt. He's drowning beneath the ice lungs full of freezing salt water waiting, begging,  _ praying.  _ No one comes to his aid. His lungs frost over and he sinks. H-

"Will?" It startles him out of his panic, the horrific daydream melting away. Halt put a hand on Will's shoulder, voice soft and full of concern. He crouches next to Will, waiting for his apprentice to respond.  _ Halt I think I died,  _ he wants to say,  _ I think I was anchored to the ocean floor with ice filled lungs.  _ Halt says something but Will doesn't process the words. 

He can feel Halt's eyes on him, knows they'll be full of concern and pity. He stays silent, let's his tears stream down his face, and continues to look away from his mentor. Halt he gently squeezes his shoulder.

"You'll get sick, out here like that." Will nods in understanding but doesn't move. He doesn't know if he  _ can  _ move. 

Halt rises from his spot and goes back inside the cabin, his footsteps almost like stomps. He was doing it on purpose, Will thought numbly. To make sure Will knew he was there. Any other time it would have filled him with warmth, made him feel something. But all Will felt was cold. 

Halt's loud footsteps sounded again, he stopped behind Will and gently placed something on his shoulders. Will's cloak. Halt was speaking again as Will pulled it tight around himself. 

(He told himself he wasn't shaking from fear, from poison filled memories. He told himself he was just cold, and that he wasn't thinking of Skandia.)

"I'll make us some coffee." And Halt was gone again. 

The sun is slowly starting to rise, the sky growing ever lighter shades of pink and orange, by the time Halt comes back. The world is cast in an early morning glow makes him feel better, if even just a little. A still steaming cup of coffee is placed into his hands, and the heat seeps through the cup and into his hands. "I had a nightmare." Will says eventually, breaking the silence. 

He takes a sip of his coffee. Halt hums, encouraging him to continue. "I still feel like I'm there. The dream, and Skandia." 

"Wil-" Halt cuts himself off when he sees his shaking hands. 

(His bleeding hands rubbed raw, his back torn open, his body too tired to sleep.)

Halt sets his own cup down, before quickly pulling Will into a tight and consuming hug. Will let's go. Halt let's him, let's him stain his tunic with tears and snot. He just holds him, like he won't ever let go. 

The sun is peeking over the trees when Will pulls out of the hug, his well run dry.

He lets out a self deprecating laugh that's laced with the remains of his pain. 

"Can...can we go inside?" His eyes are still watery and his voice still wobbles slightly. 

Halt refills Will's coffee as they sit at the kitchen table. The drink is warm and filling and Will is not alone. For a few seconds, as he sits next to his mentor with a warm drink in his hand, Will forgets his scars. 

They don't remind him, even if just for a minute more.


End file.
